People are quick to say that being able to reproduce does not make a man a father, but dare I say it, it doesn't make a woman a mother either. Why should we assume that being a female carries some sort of motherly gene that gets activated when a woman gives birth? Let's be clear. There are some sorry, pathetic mothers out there that have no right giving birth to a dog, let alone a child. I get tired of hearing single mother mantras and soliloquies, as if it applies to all. I can't feel sorry for you when you have three kids running behind you, one on the hip, and one that you're expecting. A handout? Some help? Child please.
There are some women that have children for very selfish reasons. To keep a man. To be forever connected to a man. Because babies are so stinking cute. They make a very linear decision to have a child, without thinking about what it really takes to parent one. These are the women that get pregnant by men that have fatherless children, but feel that they will have a different experience. That, for some reason, he'll be a better father for her soon to be fatherless child. But the cycle continues. Women have got to think with their brains, not their longing for male attention or to feed their ego or insecurities. I don't feel sorry for them. I feel sorry for the children that are born into such foolishness and instability.
And here's my ending preface...I know many excellent single mothers. This is no disrespect to them. They have amazing children, with amazing experiences and loving lives. They look at their motherhood as a gift, rather than a burden. Cheers to you! Sing your single mother mantra, but keep the others out of it.
Love. Unfortunately, I don't feel as if I have been in love in my adult life. I haven't had that feeling. That extreme emotion for someone else. That selfless feeling that makes even the most simple of us, poetic. I can recall a time where I felt something for someone, stronger than like, but not as powerful as love. And now, as I kind of sit, beginning to sulk about my lack of love, I think further to others of us, who feel love and can't express it.
I'm sure that most people reading my blog by now have heard about the courageous movement of Frank Ocean (I started this a long time ago, by the way, and am just now sitting down to finish). Coming out as a black man, I can only imagine is difficult. The black community has a history of isolating scriptures in the Bible to condemn some, but ignoring other scriptures that would condemn more "accepted" behaviors, claiming that time or present day mores trumps the writings of the Old and New Testament. As you have read in my previous blogs, however, this is not a religious entry. I digress.
Okay, so we have established that Ocean is black, let's now add that he is coming out as a R&B/Hip-Hop singer teeterer that has not yet reached his prime. Hasn't reached the place where people love you regardless of what you choose to do with your life. Case in point...Robert "I didn't put the R in R&B" Kelly. Yea, I went there, but again, I digress.
Reading Frank Ocean's open letter about his first love, makes me not only want to experience love, but makes me hurt for so many people out there living, loving in silence. Loving in fear. Fear of being judged, mistreated, and unable to experience fully what is pushed down our little toddler throats as we grow up in a heterosexual society. From a very young age, we are asked about the opposite sex crush in our class. We are taught to sing "first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage." We make sure to pair up Barbie and Ken, to emphasize our definition of what love really entails. Because love could not, absolutely could not exist between same sex pairs.
But what if it could? Let's just imagine that love is about personality, chemistry, or a spiritual connection that extends far beyond race, color, religion, or even gender. Could love exist then? Who decides...
This isn't a religious entry...but it may raise some Christian eyebrows. This is Convo talking, at the purest state of being. In front of a purely nonjudgmental audience, I would like to tell the world that yes, I too, watch Basketball Wives. I know it isn't right, but darn it, after a hard day, or not even that hard of a day, I like to watch trash TV. Well, even if you won't openly admit that you watch Basketball Wives yourself, I am pretty sure that you are aware of Evelyn Lozada. In my family or even among friends, I have engaged in lengthy conversations about Evelyn Lozada and her "looseness."
Many people have criticized Evelyn for engaging in sexual activity with numerous men. I don't personally know Evelyn or have an accurate count of her sexual partners, but I'd just like to say publicly, that I really do not care what tricks and flips she does in her bedroom, or whom she does them with. Aside from Evelyn, aside from Rihanna, and aside from Lynn from Girlfriends, my favorite show when Toni was still there by the way, there are plenty of women that are sexually liberated, and do not ascribe to the sexual mores of society. For men, sex is a right of passage, it helps to define their masculinity (definitely not in an exclusive fashion). I'm not saying that it is noble, and women please don't be naive at this point here. We may not define masculinity in this way, but when fathers and sons have "that talk," it is one filled with encouragement, excitement, and pride, on both ends. Men can sleep with multiple women, maybe considered a dog by some, but I doubt many people would call him "loose." We've all heard that "a man's got needs," right?
And again, this isn't a religious entry. This is Convo talking, at the purest state of being. I'm talking about sex, without any religious influences. Purely the double standard between men's right of passage and women's sexual liberation.
A week ago after trying out my new staple two strand twist, before it had the chance to get as big as I like it, a close relative walked up to me and greeted me, "Hey Aunt Jemima!" Realizing the inappropriateness of this comment, but also the inappropriateness of fully addressing this comment in a hospital, I said nothing. But I'll address it now. In a public forum. For all ignorant people that are uncomfortable with natural blackness. Mind you, I am not an advocate to say that every black woman should wear a natural. I am an advocate for my definition of beauty being just as good as yours.
This Aunt Jemima comment could have stemmed from several areas of hate or historical slander that has plagued the black community. Aunt Jemima represented several stereotypes of black women or reasons why black women were not as beautiful or worthy as their white counterparts. The Aunt Jemima prototype was very dark skinned, overweight, loud, and I assumed had kinky hair, since it was always covered with a handkerchief.
Why would a decently educated black woman call another black woman Aunt Jemima given the historical significance of this black caricature? Yes Aunt Jemima represents many positive qualities that the black mother prides herself on, being nurturing, caring, and able to be a mother to children that are not her own. But please forgive me if I don't take this name calling as a compliment. I know that it was not intended in that way.
You see, whereas this family member may see any one of my "Aunt Jemima-esque" qualities as a negative, I have had to learn to love and accept my brown skin, my non-relaxed hair, and my curves. However, I will return to the non-relaxed hair as the focal point of her diss, as we share similarities in the other attributes.
I went natural just to see what God blessed me with. I have had relaxed hair for as long as I remember, maybe second or third grade. I wanted to know what Chavonne looked like, what I truly look like. Little did I know that I would have my family making cracks at my hair, forever commenting on what it was or was not doing, and constantly telling me of their approval or disapproval. I guess they really think that their opinion counts...well not anymore. I had to learn that how someone counts themselves beautiful has nothing to do with me and is none of my business. I've got to define beauty for myself. It is important for the black community to do that for ourselves, as a whole. We constantly ascribe to what society defines as beautiful. Look at the cover of any magazine and you'll quickly figure out what that represents. Unfortunately, that leaves our kinks out, especially if it's not that Hawaiian Silky type that waves up when water hits it.
I know that I'm beautiful. My "black" qualities are just as beautiful as Beyonce's white ones. My shapely nose, my child bearing hips, my voluptuous lips, and my kinky curly hair are wonderfully me, exquisitely black...Aunt Jemima my ass.
Anyone remember this....http://youtu.be/36eD11Euk80
- Is s/he currently employed?
- How is his relationship with his mother or father?
- What are his goals?
- And lastly…I could go on, but I’ll just do 4. Does he have any other kids? If so, does he take care of them?
Black women have for a long time been criticized, while at the same time, envied for their physical features. From the plump lips, that Angelina Jolie gets praised for, to the bodacious behind that put Jennifer Lopez on the map, features that are typically found in black women, are criticized until some “other” is lucky enough to have them.
Most recently, Congressman Jim Sensenbrenner, criticized Michelle Obama for having a “large posterior,” as she attempts to encourage others to maintain a healthy lifestyle by eating right and exercising. To Jim (can I call him Jim?), being healthy and also being curvy are mutually exclusive. You can’t possibly exercise as you promote, and also have an hourglass figure. In his mind, the natural figure of most black women symbolizes obesity, unhealthy eating, and lack of exercise. Why can't we just live our lives?
I’m sure that most black women would disagree with Jim (yea, I'll call him Jim). In fact, I run sometimes with the Black Girls Run group in Atlanta. There has to be over 300 black women that come out at least once a week to run 3+ miles on the downtown streets, the rolling hills, and the off-road trails of Atlanta. This confirms for me that many black women are making healthy choices. Running is allowing these women to be more psychologically healthy, physically healthy, socially healthy, and accountable for their lifestyle. Each time I go, I see familiar and new faces: short women, tall women, skinny women, plus-sized women, mature women, younger women, novice and experienced runners, but through all these differences, we all have one thing in common….booty. And we literally turn heads and stop traffic. Though we may differ in many ways that I feel some sort of way naming here, most of the women that come out have a curvy figure that really is the natural shape of black women, whether others deem it healthy or not.
You see, Jim Sensenbrenner, and any other nonbeliever of the black girl booty, black women can bring home the turkey bacon, fry it up in a pan, eat it with some asparagus, and then go running after, and still preserve a healthy lifestyle and an even healthier booty. POW!

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